


A Perfect Blue Sky

by Bofursunboundbraids



Series: Doodles [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, post-BotFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2892344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofursunboundbraids/pseuds/Bofursunboundbraids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo wakes up, another day in his new home, but this day yields pleasant surprises.</p>
<p>Short, sweet fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect Blue Sky

A stretch and a yawn. A pert nose wiggles and smile turns a sleepy face happy. Hazel eyes open.

"Good mmmmorn...hello?" The happy turns down a bit in the corners and a curly head rises. The space on the bed that should be occupied is not, and the now disappointed owner of all these attributes sits up and looks about. He calls out a name.

"Hello...Thorin?" and he listens, but is met with nothing but silence. It's not like Thorin to let him sleep in like this.

("like a proper hobbit should", Bilbo thought, "but I am not exactly a _proper_ hobbit anymore, am I?")

The hobbit slides out of bed, his feet hitting the thick woolen rug Thorin had laid down to protect his feet from the cold. Bilbo had explained that a hobbit's feet were impervious to cold and heat and wet and don't you remember that little walkabout we were just on? In the end, though, Thorin appealed to his love of a comfortable home and it was such a pretty rug, are there more like it? Bilbo curls his toes in the plush pile as he wraps a blanket about his shoulders. It was the dead of winter and chilly in the mountain. Promises had been made that the heating vents that fed off the furnaces in the forges would soon be cleared, but until then a body had to cover up best with whatever was close at hand. 

Feet slap on the stone floor and the echo is loud and puts an emphasis on the loneliness that is worming its way in, in a most unfriendly manner. Bilbo wants the echo to be met with the familiar clomp of heavy boots but there is no other sound. He makes his way through the large, open spaces of the king's chambers...once upon a time they belonged to Thrain, Thorin's father. Thorin did not want to occupy those that had been held by his grandfather, the last king under the mountain. There was never a need to explain why. 

Bilbo's destination is a row of ironclad wooden shutters, beyond which is the terrace that over looks the desolation, including Dale, and as far as the Long Lake. A hand pokes out from the warmth of the blanket and grasps a heavy latch...it's so cold!...and Bilbo pulls...and pulls..and THERE! the shutter begins it slow swing in on hinges still rusty with disuse. It had become his ritual, his first habit in his new home, to get a look at the outside world before descending into the heart of the mountain. In the few weeks since taking up residence he'd only been greeted by grey sky and even the white out of a blizzard but today...

Bilbo blinks because a stinging light hurt his eyes. He cups his hand to his brow to shield them from the glorious light of a full sun and blue sky morning. Blue...it is as brilliant and deep a blue as any he'd seen come summer time in the Shire. Blue as far as he can see. And white...white below and all around...on the mountains, Dale, even as far as the new settlement at the lake. Tightening the blanket about this shoulders, Bilbo unlatches the tall door and walks out into this winter world.

His breath catches and his heart leaps to his throat.

A tear rolls down his cheek.

 

He wipes it away before it can freeze on his skin and he blames the awful cold, not the utterly gorgeous sublimity of a world encased in ice. Snow drifts on the terrace make walking difficult so Bilbo treads carefully to the railing at the edge of the terrace. He takes a deep breath; it is extremely cold and burns his throat and lungs a bit, but it is so fresh and clean and he does it again. The world turns an inch and Bilbo feels the kiss of the sun's warmth on his face and he can't help but to laugh, his face turned up to meet its grace, his vision holding nothing but an ocean of blue. And he leans his head back even farther, until it rests against the solid wall of Thorin's chest.

(It is never a dwarf's intent to walk silently) 

Bilbo laughs again when lips nuzzle at his ears and a bearded chin tickles the sensitive flesh.

"Yours is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard." Thorin whispers, his arms slipping around his precious love's blanket enshrouded body.

"It's only for you," and Bilbo raises a meaty hand to his lips and kisses it tenderly. Then he turns his gaze back to the endless blue. "I never imagined it could look like this."

"You've underestimated this place, _ghivashel_ , but that is not from any fault of your own." 

Bilbo nods, "I did...I think I've finally learned my lesson to never underestimate anything ever again. Ever...ever again." and his heart is flying high above their heads...out over the sugared walls of Dale...over the Long Lake. He can feel his One's heart beat against the back of his head and it brings him back...to this place where his heart belongs. Turning within the strong ring of Thorin's arms, he looks up into a blue even more breathtaking than the winter sky. His dwarf kisses the tip of his nose. It tickles and his nose wiggles.

"Where did you run off to this morning that you had to leave me behind?"

Thorin smiles at him with apology in his eyes, "Leave you behind? No, my jewel, I wanted to let you sleep. After last night I felt it only right."

Bilbo sucks in a breath, a blush making his cheeks an even darker red than the cold had managed. Thorin caresses the cherry stain skin and considers how charming that this hobbit, his hobbit...now his lover...who had held nothing back the previous night...the very first time they'd properly made love...should stand here and blush at the memory. He raises the beardless chin as he dips his head and brushes his lips against Bilbo's and they're quite cold but his blushing hobbit parts them and inside he is warm...so very warm...and heady, like a strong mulled wine...and Thorin knows he would drink of it until insensate. He bites playfully at his love's petal-like upper lip and Bilbo pulls back and he is out of breath.

"My...myyyy...swelling regard for you is suggesting we adjourn to a place considerably warmer." and Bilbo takes in the dazzling sight of Thorin...his Thorin...throwing back his head in a laugh that must've begun somewhere around his ankles and it is magnificent! Arms tighten and he is lifted off the ground and he is kissed hard and sure with a loud smack!

"Whatever my dear heart desires shall be his...but first," Thorin sets Bilbo down gently and takes a small, chilly hand in his, fingers entwining, "I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Bilbo is instantly curious. Is this why he was in a bed alone when he awoke? He lets himself be led away from the frosty brilliance of the outside world and into the dark resplendence of Erebor. Upon entering the great hall, the scent of something long missed greets the hobbit's nose. 

"That...mmmmm....smells like...oh, but it couldn't be." Bilbo looks up at Thorin who smiles down at him, the light of the many fiery braziers twinkling in his eyes. 

"It very well could be, if it is roast pork you are imagining."

"Roast pork?" Bilbo looks incredulous. How is that possible?

Thorin nods, "With crackling, as well as spiced meat pies and some hot loaves right out of the oven." He can't help but laugh at the sight of his hobbit so completely gobsmacked. 

"Hot loaves?" Bilbo touches his chin to make sure he isn't drooling.

"And sweet butter."

Hazel eyes grow large, "Sweet..." now he is drooling. "How? Our food supplies have been so slim."

"There has to be some reward for being a king with a mountain of gold. If it can't go to making my dearest one smile, then it serves no good purpose." 

Thorin leads Bilbo to the long table before the wide, open hearth. There is the most beautiful pork joint sitting in the middle, the skin bubbled up and crispy. Meat pies sit in a clumsy pile, juices leaking out of split seams. And then Bilbo sees it, what his heart has most desired these many long months since leaving his comfortable hole. A long knife is placed carefully in his hand by the most considerate of lovers and, with careful pulls, he cuts first one, then two thick slices of risen bread. On goes a generous amount of soft, sweet butter and...eyes roll back and close, a long breath is taken in through the nose, and Bilbo is experiencing the height of ecstasy (at least with one's clothes still on).

"It is good?" Thorin asks.

Bilbo holds up a finger. He is still chewing. After making great show of swallowing, he opens his eyes and meets his dwarf's expectant gaze.

"It's very, very good." Bilbo reaches out and hooks some fingers over Thorin's belt. "It's quite wonderful, actually." and up on tip toes he goes and kisses an extremely pleased face. With a gentle hand on Bilbo's back, Thorin guides him to the table.

And there they feast like the mighty mountain lords they are coming to realize they are.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little something to get me back into writing, since it's been so long since I've posted anything (got bit by the drawing bug there for awhile). I was also in need, post-botfa, for some happy, romantic FLUFF!
> 
> The title comes from the song [_A Perfect Blue Sky_](http://youtu.be/lag8FiFucEA) by JUNKIE XL with Robert Smith
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](bofursunboundbraids.tumblr.com)! Come cry about Bagginshield feels with me!


End file.
